


Good God, Let Me Give You My Life

by marshmallowme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, F/M, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallowme/pseuds/marshmallowme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam would do anything to save his brother from the mark. At any cost.<br/>Even his sanity, or his life.</p><p>-Or A.U. Where Sam take the mark of Cain off Dean to put it on himself.-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :)  
> I had this idea since a couple of days now, and I couldn't write anything else until this was on paper.  
> Enjoy :D

Dean was cruel and reckless. There was not a whole lot of words to describe his brother’s behavior right now. Maybe heartless, fearless, or painless…

But Sam preferred cruel.

Drinking like no tomorrow, girls, lots of girls, and rage, oh so much rage.

Pure rage, directed to everything at the same time, always so close to explode.

Sam was scared. There were not a lot he could do. He had check every website or book about the mark at least twice. He had to do something. Dean always saved him, after all. He was so tired of being useless.

He wanted to save him, cure him. At any cost.

Dean was in his bed, sleeping. His fist clenched, his brows furrowed, and a dark smirk colored his lips. Sam putted a hand on Dean’s forearm and closed his eyes. His fingers brushed the mark, and he was surprised by his warmth.

He clenched his eyes and his hand, and concentrated. He visualised the energy of the mark, its power, his dark aura. He bitted his lower lip when he felt the mark moving from Dean’s arm to his. He removed his hand from Dean’s arm, and put his hand on his new scar.

The mark was glowing, red and shiny, and looked so wrong that Sam wanted nothing more to rip it off. He looked at his brother, who was still sleeping. His fists weren’t clenched anymore, his shoulders weren’t stiff; he looked happier. Younger. But most of all, better.

It was worth it.

Sam staggered to his room slowly, and laid on his bed. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t sleep. He felt different, too warm, exposed to the world, but at the same time so… pure.

 

\- Dean woke up with a smile and a feeling better than he had in months.

He took a hot shower, butchering _Highway to Hell_ and retaining himself to smile.He passed a hand on his arm and he stopped breathing.

The mark was gone. How was it even possible?

-

He almost run to the living room, looking for Sam. His brother would be so happy!

But Sam wasn’t there. He went to Sam’s bedroom but the door was locked.

That was weird. Sam never locked his door. Hell, they both didn’t lock their doors.

He knocked sharply.

‘Sam? Sammy?’

‘Leave… me. Alone…’ a raspy voice murmured.

‘Sam? Open the door, man, what’s wrong?’ Dean almost screamed.

He was starting to freak out. Sam didn’t answered and Dean knocked harder and harder on the door.

‘Sammy, let me in or I’ll break that fucking door!’

Sam didn’t responded and Dean hit the door until he could pass his hand to unlock to door. He opened it rapidly, still alarmed for his brother. He froze in place for a few seconds. Sam was on the floor, curled into a little ball, and there was blood everywhere. He looked more closely at his brother and realised it was Sam’s blood. ‘Sammy?’ he slowly asked.

‘Oh god, what have you done?’ He thought bitterly. He helped Sam to get up and looked at him. Sam looked tired and thirsty, his eyes barely focusing on anything. Dean searched rapidly with his eyes where was the blood coming from. His face, where his nose looked broken and his lips looked like they needed some stiches. But most of the blood came from his arm and his hand. On his left hand, his fingernails were covered in so much blood that his fingers didn’t looked anything but red. And his right arm was still bleeding, from the crook of his elbow. He remounted Sam’s sleeve and he almost dropped his brother. The mark. Sam had the mark. His mind was buzzing, he couldn’t think. He screamed, as loud as he could.

‘Caaaassss! Castiel, please, I need you!’

A few seconds later, Castiel appeared at his side.

‘Help me get him to the living room.’

Castiel nodded and didn’t say anything, feeling the distress of his beloved friend. They helped Sam sat on a chair, and Dean automatically reached for the first aid kit and a glass of water. He still couldn’t believe him. He, secretly, still was searching about the mark and wanted to get rid of it, but this was completely unexpected. Why did Sam took the mark? He was the smart one after all, and this was an absolutely wrong and stupid idea. He cleaned his brother without saying anything. He wanted to hit him, scream at him. How could Sam be that stupid? He preferred himself getting hurt than Sammy ever getting hurt. He’ll do anything for the kid. Sure, lately, he was a bit off track, but still. Sam’s gesture was completely suicidal. Sam was already more broken than Dean.

He had it worse. His mind was shattered into millions of pieces, his body destroyed in more ways than Dean liked to think about. Sam was broken. He still had nightmares about the cage, still couldn’t sleep for days at time when he remembered the cage.

He woke up screaming, sweating, without remembering where he was.

Taking the mark, at the state he was… It could kill him. More easily than it could have killed Dean.

Dean didn’t like that idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support guys =)

Sam was feeling very well, thank you. He wasn’t filled with rage, violence and need for killing people. Instead, he felt different, serene, and pure. The mark was glowing on his skin and he smiled at it. He didn’t fear the mark, like his brother had. He wasn’t fighting it, like Dean used to; he was in peace. 

Maybe that why he didn’t felt so violent.

His thoughts were darker, sure, but weren’t directed to anyone but him, so it didn’t matter much. He didn’t feel suicidal, but considered his life somehow less important.

It’s a bit like when he was soulless.

He still know what’s wrong and what’s good, but he didn’t care as much. He doesn’t care about feelings, and silence don’t bother him anymore. In fact, he loves silence. He used to hate it, feel the need to fill it at any cost, but right now, it feels great.

‘What the fuck were you thinking, Sam?’ asked Dean.

‘I don’t know. I just- I wanted to do something’.

‘And you thought that taking the mark from me was a good idea?’

‘Well…Yes. I don’t regret it, Dean. You can’t possibly ask me to regret it. Cause I don’t. You know I’ll do anything for you, right?’

‘Dammit, Sammy’, Dean muttered.

‘I’ll do it again. In a second. If it means you get better.’

Dean lowered his gaze on the floor. He couldn’t really blame his brother. Hell, he would do anything for him too.

-

At first, things seemed… better.

They weren’t arguing at all, never. They were friendly and had a bunch of cool moments, hunted like a perfectly oiled machine. Sam was maybe a bit pessimist, and lot more sarcastic, but not as much as soulless-Sam was. 

But Dean started to notice things.

Odd things.

Sam would disappear for hours, usually during the night, only coming back in the early morning smelling like alcohol and cheap girly perfumes. 

Dean wasn’t even sure if Sam slept anymore. 

He was scratching constantly. Mostly around the mark, but also his arms and his hands. His fingernails were usually bloodied and he had dark circles under his eyes. 

Then, Dean noticed that Sam’s clothes were loose. His shirts looked at least two sizes too big, his jeans nearly falling off even if he had a belt. 

Sam wasn’t eating much.

In fact, it was hard to remember the last time he saw Sam eat.

-

‘Cas, I think Sam’s not doing so well’.

‘Well, I know that he barely sleep or eat and constantly fornicate with different women of various ages and shapes. He also commanded some smaller jeans on Amazon the other day.’

‘You gotta be kidding me! Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Castiel raised his hand and looked at Dean in confusion.

‘I thought you knew. I mean, it’s hard to miss. I think he didn’t want you to know.’

‘I know that. I think he’s hiding something, Cas. I just fucking hope it’s not the demon blood again.’

‘I-I don’t think so. He don’t smell like demon blood. He just smell… Pure.’

‘Pure? What the hell, Cas’? 

‘I don’t know. He just feel pure.’

‘What the fuck do you mean by-’ his sentence was cut when both men heard a crashing noise in the kitchen.

‘Oh my god!’ They heard Sam screaming.

Both men ran to the kitchen to see Sam floating in the air, two thick black wings on his back. His shirt was ripped and barely standing on his chest, and Dean could see Sam’s ribs and red wounds Sam did to himself. 

‘What have you done, Sammy?’ He asked Sam.

‘I don’t know! I was just walking and then I felt dizzy and those two things just appeared on my back!’

‘Sam, think about an anchor. Something that rely you to the ground. Try to see yourself on the floor’, Castiel said. 

Sam closed his eyes and thought about Dean. Dean’s smile, laugh, poor jokes. Dean’s obsession for his car, grassy hamburgers and pie. He saw Dean when he was younger, both riding in Baby, going places their father had defended them to go. He felt his knees hit the ground and sighed. 

Dean hugged him closely, as Castiel stood up not far behind them, looking at them.

‘It’s gonna be okay, little brother’, Dean said to him, in a pressed litany. 

Like he wanted to reassure himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter when someone request it :D

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue or drop it?
> 
> \- Next Chapter if someone request it :D -


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